Page 30 of The Cowboy's Redemption
However, she would never—not in a million years—have suspected how well he knew his way around women.
A rumble shook his chest under her ear. “What luck. I’m an excellent student. I draw the line at toys, though,” he said, winding a strand of her hair around his finger and tugging it gently. “Nothing against them. But if I can’t satisfy a woman using the gifts God already gave me, then I don’t deserve her.”
She was satisfied. No question of that. A warm throb against her stomach suggested she was about to be satisfied again.
As for who deserved whom…
“Let’s see how good I am at teaching,” she said, and got to her knees.
*
Levi
He discovered shewas very good at it over the next several days.
Especially today.
Rain beat on the barn roof, slow and steady. Outside, the day was wet and chilly. Inside the barn, they were dry and warm. Very warm.
They were both naked. He had one palm pressed against the lower part of her spine while she gripped the rail on the top of a stall with both hands, long legs bent and spread, and he was taking instructions from her as he pumped inside her from behind. The soft, eager noises she was making, urging him on, almost finished him off, but no way he was coming first.
Tight muscles clenched him, and he knew she was close. He picked up the pace, his knees bucking against the backs of her thighs, his free hand clutching a handful of her hair. She threw her head back, crying out, and he lost his self-control. He moved his hand from her hair to her breast, and mouthed words of encouragement into her ear, his body tight against hers while she came.
She pressed her forehead against the wooden stall, her eyes closed, and emitted a soft sigh of pleasure. He stroked her damp skin, touching her breasts, her stomach, the long line of her spine, while his tongue sampled the curl of her ear. He loved these few moments after, when he was inside her, and they were both too satisfied to move but not too tired to explore.
Sex with her was a puzzle he planned to crack. She was invested in it. No question about that. But when it came to the deeper aspects of intimacy—pillow talk, for example—she cashed in her chips and went home. He’d learned nothing new about her over the past several days, although confirmed a few things he’d only suspected.
She had two distinct sides to her. In public, she was the ice queen. Calm and in control. In private, she liked to let loose. And when she was naked,hotdidn’t begin to describe her—although insatiable came close. There wasn’t much she wasn’t willing to try.
Both sides of her, however, were equally untouchable. He couldn’t seem to find that warm, in-between place with her where true intimacy thrived between couples.
She was beautiful, and sexy, and so incredibly complex, he was borderline terrified of her. She treated each instance of lovemaking as if it might be her last. It was both wildly exciting and deeply disturbing, because while he could make love to her until they were both ninety and never grow bored, he had a good idea she viewed him as someone much, much shorter term.
He started to withdraw, the slide of his skin against hers leaving him semi-hard and reconsidering whether they were really done exploring this particular position just yet, when a ball of fur scurried over his foot and dived into a crack between the bales of hay stacked in a corner.
He jumped, and the quick movement resolved his dilemma. Dana shifted her hips, protesting the sudden disconnect of their bodies, and glanced over her shoulder to check out the cause.
She let go of the rail on the stall and straightened, her startled blue eyes losing that slumbrous sheen of fulfillment he liked, since he’d put it there. Long, loose dark curls tumbled to the tips of plump, rosy breasts.
“What was that?” she said.
“Otto’s cat.” And he had a hunch he knew what its hurry was.
He also saw an opportunity to share more with Dana than sex. Remnants from the previous winter, the hay was too dusty for horse feed and would end up as compost. Right now, it served as a nursery.
He didn’t bother to get dressed but began rearranging the bales, and soon found a nest of white-and-black, tiger-striped kittens burrowed inside. Their eyes weren’t yet open, but they mewled indignation against the fresh draft of cool air.
“Kittens!” Dana exclaimed, moving in for a closer look.
She’d wriggled into a stretchy green tank top that covered her breasts but left her flat stomach bare. She’d added a thong—because it covered so much—and slid her toes into flip-flops.
The flip-flops he understood. Barn floors weren’t the cleanest. The purpose of the piece of lace she passed off as panties eluded him, however, unless it was intended as a distraction, which it certainly was.
The mama cat eyeballed them with a lack of concern that stated she considered them no threat, so Levi reached into the nest she’d made for her babies and lifted one kitten out. He passed it to Dana, who cupped it carefully in her palm, as if it were made of delicate glass. She stroked its soft, baby dander with the tip of her finger. Tiny paws splayed, attempting to extend claws that hadn’t yet fully formed.
He’d half-hoped the kittens might spark conversation. That he could satisfy a different kind of need on her part. But it seemed she wasn’t ready to share confidences with him in the same way she shared her body.
Wordlessly, she returned the kitten to him. He reunited it with its litter mates, then repositioned the bales of hay so they were again snug and secure.
